


An Exploration of Character - Part 3

by melpomeni_mandy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Past Relationship(s), Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2019, hair angst (lol)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 10,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20953034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melpomeni_mandy/pseuds/melpomeni_mandy
Summary: The FFXIVWrite challenge has come and gone once more and here, all in one place, are my entries for 2019. Chapter 1 will include all the prompts as well as free day titles I chose to use. Enjoy!





	1. Index

Prompt Index:

Prompt #1: Voracious  
Prompt #2: Bargain  
Prompt #3: Lost  
Prompt #4: Shifting Blame  
Prompt #5: Vault  
Prompt #6: First Steps  
Prompt #7: Forgiven  
Prompt #8: Free Day (Respects)  
Prompt #9: Hesitate  
Prompt #10: Foster  
Prompt #11: Snuff  
Prompt #12: Finger’s Crossed  
Prompt #13: Wax  
Prompt #14: Scour  
Prompt #15: Free Day (Infection)  
Prompt #16: Jitter  
Prompt #17: Obesiant  
Prompt #18: Wilt  
Prompt #19: Radiant  
Prompt #20: Bisect  
Prompt #21: Crunch  
Prompt #22: Free Day (Dagger)  
Prompt #23: Parched  
Prompt #24: Unctuous  
Prompt #25: Trust  
Prompt #26: Slosh  
Prompt #27: Palaver  
Prompt #28: Attune  
Prompt #29: Free Day (Blessing)  
Prompt #30: Darkness


	2. Voracious

Ahlis looked upon her vanity mirror and immediately regretted it. Her eyes turned askance before she forced herself to look again: this time her gaze remained leveled.

Turning to the mirror had been a source of grounding before–well, everything. Certainly before her hair had taken it’s own turn, much to her own immense dismay. It was good to face oneself every night, Ahlis would remind herself, even if all she did was to wash away the grime of the outside world.

Yet was excruciating now. Terrible, vulnerable. She had tried to find a solution as quickly as she could with all the idea she could think of to ease herself into accepting what could very well be her new “normal”. Dyes had been ruled out almost immediately. She attempted new hair styles, almost all of which pulled her hair up and out of her face, if anything to stop reminding her on what happened in the first place. None of them felt right. Shawls didn’t suit her, nor did most hats.

She reached for the long cloak that she draped over the chair and opened the fastening at the neck to swing it around herself. Ahlis grasped the hood last and pulled it upon her head, looking within the mirror a final time. Her fixation on her reflection was immediate: she did not know what to make of it, of the shadow that now masked her face.

_It suits you._

“No.” The hood was pushed back, the cloak discarded with a growing ferocity.

_No?_

Ahlis could feel the heat rising within her skin, throbbing, her face tingling as she scrambled to unlatch the dagger from her boot. Once unsheathed her other hand grasped a fistful of hair and pulled it taut, the edge of the blade pressing upon the strands.

It was insatiable, the idea of hacking away like a woman mad. To be rid of it, cut away, expunged. No more reminders, no more wicked white–!

She would have done it, had she not looked again. The sight of her furious, tear-laden face within the mirror halted the knife where it finally clattered to the floor of her suite.


	3. Bargain

_This entry is a short one with an empty header. An attempt was made in listing the date at the corner of the page but it is scratched out._

I made mention of needing a new journal before making my way to the markets and what should I find at the clerk’s desk but a wrapped package all for me. There was no note but I didn’t need one, obviously, as I knew it could have been none other than his doing.

Perhaps he considers this a ways of making amends, to offer the so-called olive branch, as it were. But honestly I do not wish for more prying. I know he is trying but I am <strike>bristling</strike> <strike>brittle</strike> wary of how things have become.

<strike>I do not want softness from him and it angers me how</strike>

Hopefully he bought this book at a good price, it is very well made with solid binding. The leather is embossed as well with a tooled design I have not seen the likes of back home <strike>who am I kidding he probably got it for free! I wonder if the decoration was his idea</strike>

I have to pack. Thankfully it will not be much. I hope Alisaie is well; my stomach is in a knot just thinking about seeing her again, considering how much time has passed.


	4. Lost

Ahlis watched as the tea kettle slowly came to a boil. Waiting, yet feeling malms away, she could not sleep. Restless over the dreams that came to her as she slept, it unsettled her how much she recalled of them. Which brought into question if they were dreams after all.

She absently scooped the dry tea leaves into the strainer. It was tumultuous the moments she found herself at the mercy of the Echo, when even her sleep was plagued by it she could not help but feel that something was even more amiss. But there was no putting her finger on it, no truly discernible cause to her affliction. Times like these were rare, where all she did was fiddle about, and worry.

Her suite was quiet (too quiet, truth be told), and the return of true darkness to the evening sky was a welcome change, yet it added to her solitude in a way that only weighed on a mind too deprived of rest.

The pot had yet to steam and already it felt like an eternity. She would lose more sleep before the night was through, of that she was certain.


	5. Shifting Blame

Ahlis departed the Ocular, steel-faced and thin-lipped after speaking with the Exarch. She hadn’t said much in the brief interim between her haphazard arrival and the tour-of-sorts she embarked on across the Crystarium.

Everything seemed in working order, and the local folk appeared amicable and friendly enough. Truth be told she paid little heed to much of what anyone said; there were other more pressing matters occupying her thoughts, such as the one who brought her there in the first place.

It hadn’t been easy to rein in her anger, especially now knowing what became of her companions. Brought against their will, out of her grasp and left to wonder, and to suffer…

It was _necessary_, she argued to herself with the same attempt to reason with the why and how of the situation. Ahlis scoffed and felt the pang of scorn all over again. She wanted to believe him. That in the end a solution would be found for the predicament of the Scions, yet with so many unknowns what little reprieve or assurances there could be felt hollow.

_It’ll be fine_, she told herself, walking and ignoring all those around her. It was no use: she couldn’t change how she felt. To find some way to absolve the faults made, no matter the reasoning or the hope behind the inkling of an idea that she _knew_ the one behind the hooded cowl. Deja vu only went so far, even on the First.

Ahlis approached the Pendants where her suite resided, knowing she ought to focus her mind on the traveling ahead. Resigned, like much that rested within the ache of her heart, even the Exarch would have to wait.


	6. Vault

The foot locker had a considerable layer of dust when she brushed her hand across the top of it. It was plain but a sturdy thing, the insignia of the Immortal Flames emblazoned in the center.

Funny that, a container like this would be all the way across a small sea channel and in the city of Limsa Lominsa. Then again it didn’t belong to her–rather, she took it as it was the only thing big enough to hold all her things when she left the deserts of Thanalan behind. Precious likely didn’t mind; but Ahlis hadn’t really bothered to ask.

“This one be goin’ in ta storage with the rest, miss?” A roegadyn man asked as he approached. He was becoming slick with sweat from a half-day’s work of carrying her berth out of her flat, among other such things besides.

“No, this will be going with me. It’s fragile though, so make sure it’s tied down tight, ” Ahlis rose to her full height from where she had knelt besides the container. “Please.”

The man hoisted it up with ease and left with it where the carriage awaited down below. It was one of the last remainders within her flat that had been her home for the last four years.

_Almost five, actually_, Ahlis considered while taking a final long look. This wouldn’t be forever either, she reminded herself as she clinked the keys in her hand and locked the door behind her. All that was left was to see the room manager and make sure all the needed paperwork was settled and return said keys. From there she would see to it that her belongings were sent along proper to be stashed away until her return. It was for the best, as taking an entire apartment to the Rising Stones was not only unnecessary, but too damn expensive given the distance. A friend and colleague at the guild recommended a place for such things with a reputation of being the one place with the least number of break-ins and thefts in all of Vylbrand.

_“It’s practically the best vault you’d find outside of Ul’dah!”_ Or so he claimed. But swore if upon her return that her property had been stolen…!

Such thinking wasn’t doing well on her nerves, considering how much had changed so quickly. And with the events at the Waking Sands having only happened recently…Ahlis pushed such thoughts away. It was time to meet the carriage carrying her belongings all the way to Mor Dhona, and gods help them if any of her things weren’t being handled as they should.

Ahlis looked back the spire of the Topmast one last time, shining in the morning light, and her heart felt light. After all, this wouldn’t be forever.


	7. First Steps

It had felt like an age when she returned to Mor Dhona.

Everything and nothing had changed, and those first few moments she felt when she knew she had crossed over successfully were so _strange_. Not that she wasn’t thankful for apparent difference in time being so little, but it shake the feeling of being encased in some sort of bubble where none on the Source could truly understand.

The bed was still soft when she sat upon it in her room at the Rising Stones. The journal she had forgotten was still upon her desk, unopened. There were letters to read, of course, but none she cared to respond to. Or, rather, none from the only sender she wished for.

Her hand went to her hair in the same second she thought of him. He would be shocked upon seeing her again, worried of what happened in the short interim from their last meeting–she would have to tell him. Ahlis could feel tension creep through her as the prospect and for a moment she did not know what to do.

It was too _much_ to tell, to confess and to explain. Not when she wasn’t close to any answers for herself. What she had seen and what she dreamed of now in the wake of returning from the depths of Norvrandt’s ocean…Ahlis closed her eyes and took a breath to steady her mind.

_Seven hells, Ahlis. You have to tell him **something**._

A moment passed, and then another, before she looked back to her desk. Gently she rose to her feet and pulled the chair back to sit. She found her pen and took it into her hand; parchment was pulled out next from the drawer. Sending a letter delayed the inevitable, but it would buy her some time. At least, for once, it would be Ahlis writing to Aymeric first.


	8. Forgiven

“I didn’t know you played.”

Ahlis kept her eyes down at the cards she had been absently shuffling in her hands despite know exactly who happened to show himself.

“I don’t. Least not any games you’d be familiar with, I suppose.”

Ardbert was not one to dally, or sit and keep company for that manner, what with his incorporeal form coming and going as he pleased. But today he noticed a sort of concentrated pensiveness in his counterpart-from-the-beyond the First.

“Aye, I reckon so. But you are familiar with cards, that much is plain. What’s your favorite?”

Ahlis stopped her fiddling with the deck and looked at him. It was typical for her to be short with him, their conversations terse when they were alone. Not that he could blame her for it; their relationship was, simply put, absurdly complicated.

“Triple Triad,” the corner of her mouth twitched as if she was about to smile at that, “but I can’t really explain it well without the actual cards.”

“Why not? I got a pretty good imagination.” Ardbert rounded the table where Ahlis sat and for the first time since they had reunited deigned to sit along with her. “Sure beats playing alone, anyroad.”

Surely he had better things to do, was the first thought to come to her, but Ahlis said nothing. The reality of the matter was, truly, there was nothing stopping him at all to learn of a silly card game from another star. He had all the time in the world now.

“If you insist. Can’t say I didn’t warn you if it doesn’t make a lick of sense…takes a bit of know-how with numbers to play.”

Ardbert could almost swear he could feel the smile coming to his face. He could also swear that Ahlis was being coy with him, a new development he hadn’t believed possible.

“Then you’ll forgive me if I’ll need a repeat of the rules, aye?”

It was Ahlis’s turn to smile, eyes crinkling ever so slightly in a manner that could only be described as impish. She set the cards down upon the table.

“Only if you prove to be a worthwhile learner. Now, let’s give it a shot.”


	9. Free Day (Respects)

The losses that day had been heavy. It was not unexpected, as the Crystarium’s forces had long since been fighting an uphill battle with the endless horde of sin eaters at their doorstep.

They had come through it, in the end, but it was hardly glorious or definitive in its victory. The injured had been seen to, the dead would be given the rites, and life would continue on. 

Her hands felt empty knowing she had no offerings as she stood before the erected makeshift memorial. To any passerby she would appear as if in prayer with her head bowed but Ahlis did no such thing. Her mind lingered on the soldiers now gone, of the captain who cursed her fate in the aftermath. Of how little comfort she could give to such suffering.

Ahlis took a breath, and released it. To linger would prove fruitless, but at the very least she could take a moment to remember, to reflect…and to pay her respects.


	10. Hesitate

“Ildilayan, what’s your status?” A voice crackled over the linkpearl within her ear. She placed her fingers to ear, pace unfaltering.

“I am in pursuit as we speak!”

A crate toppled over in her path, cracking apart as it crashed. Ahlis leaped over it with ease.

“This is not your call to make, fall back!”

_Like hells I will!_

She did not respond as she bolted in the wake of her target fleeing the Sapphire Exchange district. It was crowded with people, bustling with commerce between locals and visitors alike, but as a Brass Blade she knew those streets like the back of her hand. The thief, a young scrappy hyur and quick on their feet, would not get far.

Dodging obstacles in the forms of people, stalls, carriages and the like the pair carried on their chase far from the Exchange and into the maze of the backstreets where Pearl Lane intersected them, going deeper into the heart of Ul’dah. It would be complicated once this went too far, as even she could become confused and her quarry a lost cause.

Ahlis almost missed the second her target took a last moment dash into a side alley right off Onyx Lane. The path opened into a small alcove and at first she saw nothing, and the fear that she had truly lost the chase dawned on her in a cold rush. Then, she looked up, and that’s when she saw them crawling up an awning towards a rooftop.

She had done it without thinking, unleashing a spell upon one of the wooden beams and shattering it, causing the entire structure to collapse. The other hyur, a woman Ahlis realized as her wound turban and face mask fell from her head to reveal her identity, toppled towards the ground and rolled briefly to a stop among the debris.

A thought raced through her mind as she approached; she could have killed them. Yet such concern dissipated as obscenities were launched her way as the runaway thief fought to regain their bearings.

“Ye’ crazy fuck! Coulda bloody killed me!” The woman bellowed and Ahlis grappled with her to restrain her flailing. “Issat what the Blades do ‘ese days?! Kill an’ maim anybody they please!”

“Y’didn’t see anything, do y’hear me?” Ahlis’s voice was ice cold as she gripped hard upon the woman’s arms, twisting them as she wrangled a proper binding upon her wrists.

“Hells take this damned city, s’pecially you! A Mhigan who threw ‘er lot with th’ bastards tha’ run this shitehole.” The woman writhed and Ahlis grunted, teeth clenched tight while finishing the final knot.

With both arms Ahlis roughly tossed the thief onto their back and leaned in close, staring eye to eye.

“What now?” The woman taunted, unfazed by her rough treatment. “Gonna teach me a lesson?” She scoffed at Ahlis then, the scorn clear in her eyes. “Yer no better than me.”

“No…I’m not. But I won’t hesitate, bitch.”

Ahlis pulled her fist back and clocked the woman right in the jaw just enough to knock her senseless.


	11. Foster

Another letter from Ul’dah arrived. Ahlis cared little for them when she bothered to read what they said. They were more like a correspondence one would receive between colleagues, or from your superior officer, not from your guardian who took you in from the streets.

That was only a small reason why such letters bothered her. In truth they served as reminders: of how she left the only home she had known for the better part of a decade, and yet despite it all there had been little in the ways of tenderness between them.

But that was fine. After all it had been her decision to leave, and Ahlis wasn’t one to wilt due to regret, even if it came with considerable pain. Especially now that she found her place by the sea; a far cry from the arid deserts of Thanalan. There was true accomplishment under her belt now, sown and cultivated with her own hands in the form of a budding career as a researcher, nurtured by her fellows and her independence carved for herself by means of having her own flat to herself.

_No more pinching every gil to make it last, or obeying every single rule lest she be reprimanded. No more ‘lights out’ godsdamnit if I find you reading again–_

She blinked, now back in the present. The letter remain in her hand, unopened.


	12. Snuff

Aymeric watched in careful silence as he listened to the soft sound of hair being brushed. His company had removed herself from the bed at some point, alighting the lamp to take to the dresser where she set her things. There was a small mirror there, propped open that helped with her slow and meticulous work, and it was turned just so that part of her face showed itself back to him. She was absorbed entirely with the task of minding her hair, precise movements of her arm combing through those long strands now made pale and white save for the very ends.

Ahlis did not wish to talk of it, not entirely; that had been difficult to accept in the beginning, as the change was so stark, and certainly sudden. But she was not ill, or terribly injured, or afflicted any longer: that, at least, assuaged most of his worry.

He remembered he way she had clung to him when the matter was ‘settled’–as best it could be for the moment–and the ache that hung heavy in her voice.

_‘I don’t want to think anymore. Just let me stay here with you.’_

And so he did as she wished. Now, hours later and well into the evening Aymeric was left to wonder. Ahlis was here, returned to him hale and whole, _alive_. Yet it was peculiar the quiet intensity at which she stared within the mirror, hair continuously brushed again and again.

_Ahlis. Are you truly well?_

She stopped half-way through another brush of her long, beautiful hair, and turned to look back towards the bed. Her face, shadowed by the partial light and dimness of the room, changed when she realized he was awake. Ahlis smiled, although appearing a touch puzzled.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.” Aymeric replied as he softly smiled in return. “Yet I wonder if you insist on staying there for the rest of the night.”

“Make fun of my vanity, will you?” Ahlis abandoned her brush to the dresser and made her way back the confines of the bed, the lamp in hand. “Keep it up and I might just chop it all off.”

“That would be a sight. A beautiful one, all the same.”

“I’ll consider it then. But for tonight, I think you’ve seen enough.”

Ahlis placed the lamp upon the bedside table, fingers reaching to the flame, and snuffed out the light.


	13. Finger's Crossed

“Time to go?”

“Looks that way. No other airship will reach Ul’dah in time.”

The pair stood just outside the airship landing in Ishgard. There was no snow, and the day was quite clear. Perfect weather, or as close to it when visiting the city.

“Do I get a kiss on the cheek for good luck?” Ahlis turned in her steps as she slowly made her way over to the docks. She was grinning at Alyx who, in turn, rolled her eyes. “No, I see how it is. You gave all your well wishes to a certain someone already.”

Alyx pursed her lips in a knowing, half-exasperated smile.

“You won’t need it. I’ve seen how much you’ve practiced.”

“High praise considering you’ve must have kept an eye on my rival as well. Cross your fingers while you’re at it too, Aymeric will need all the help he can get.”

Ahlis fluffed her hair back with her hand and turned towards the dock and the awaiting airship.

“I still do not see the point of traveling all the way to the Saucer for this match.” 

“You must always claim your battleground against your opponent when given the opportunity, Alyx.” Ahlis held a finger up high as if to punctuate her words. “This is for justice, after all.”

Of course, how could she forget? Alyx held back once they reached the gate. She cared little for the extravagances of the Manderville family’s exploits, but for once she felt a little impatient knowing she would not be going along too.

“You’ll have to tell me everything when you two return.” 

A cold Coerthan gust came just then and Ahlis looked back to her friend, her hair becoming a riot in the wind.

“Count on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alyx belonging to aethernoise/emmerwrites and was posted/written with permission!


	14. Wax

“Ah, Miss Lancaster! Will you be helping us today?”

A young woman was fast approaching up the short hill the Fullflower Comb rested upon, dressed in field trappings quite different than her usual garb of the conjurer’s guild.

“Hello Ismay! And yes, I thought I should, given that I have some time.”

“I know your father keeps you busy enough at the orchard, so what brings you to these parts anyhow?”

“Well…”

The two women chattered together as they pulled their nets over their heads, the beehives alive with activity. Ismay took the lead in inspecting each hive, noting their progress.

“How much longer do you think until the next harvest?” 

“Not long now, another moon or two. This one is doing very well, so it could be sooner. Think you’ll help with that too Miss Lancaster?” Ismay smiled as she carefully placed the frame she had been inspecting back into the rack.

“I may, if I have a the time,” she replied, but when she continued it was in a much more gentler and lower tone of voice. “…You can call me Mira, you know? Like I asked before. You don’t need to be so formal. Who cares who my father is!”

Ismay laughed and nodded, although it looked more like a bobble head with her large netted hat.

“Let’s sweeten the deal then, Mira. If you help with the next harvest you’ll get first dibs on honey and comb–”

“Ismay.” The voice of Rosa Hawthorne, proprietress of the yard, spoke with a gentle firmness. “You may not be above bribery, but we are in the business of integrity.”

“We can always use the help! C’mon…you know I meant nothing poor by it.”

“Aye…now move along and keep checking the other hives. We have plenty of stacks to go through before the day is done.”

Together the two women carried on until a number of hours passed, laughing and talking the day away, and just as quickly and Mira came she left, clamoring down the hill as if a bee from one of their hives had stuck her. 

“She overstayed again,” Ismay shrugged and finished off her cup of mead the pair had poured as refreshment for the end of their work. “That girl needs a pocket watch.”

“If she does that you’ll be having trouble making her stay so long.” Rosa smiled, taking a brief sit on one of their supply boxes. “You should tell her, you know…”

Ismay made what sounded like an annoyed grumble and left with the pair on cups in hand. Rosa Hawthorne sighed, leaning back on a hand as she sat, bemused.


	15. Scour

It was all gone after the Calamity. The very earth had been scraped clean of what it was once was, and what little remained was charred, burnt to ashes leaving nothing recognizable in the aftermath.

Later she was told she had been found rummaging in the ruins; she couldn’t recall much of it, let alone the purpose of why she had been there to begin with. It must have been grief, overwhelming sorrow, the healers surmised, that explained her fugue state. Or maybe it was endless noise in her ears and all the space between them. A kind of tinnitus that was unlike any other howl or screech from the land she had ever heard. It remained, rumbling, jumbled like a halo all around her thoughts in those hours, days, and weeks that followed.

Miraneev had wanted to go back, but she had been forbidden. It was too soon, too early, and too dangerous besides. Now was the time for healing and to mend oneself and those around her, if she was able. 

It felt as if it was almost expected, despite everything. Her hands rested heavily upon her newly bequeathed Hearer’s robes; they had been saved, having been kept in Gridania proper within the guild hall. It was her duty after all, was it not? 

Fingers curled into the cotton beneath them. For all her training and expectations, there would be no succor. Not yet.


	16. Free Day (Infection)

The bandage being unwound around her forearm came away stained with remnants of blood and pus. Ahlis had griped about lack of feeling in her fingers so they stopped on their way down the trail towards civilization, sitting among the wildflowers of the Shroud on an otherwise calm, sunny and uneventful day.

“What a bloody pain in the arse,” she sighed. For once she was thankful that her traveling partner for the moment was a healer, even if it pained her something awful when the final bit of gauze came away. It had stuck to her bite wound and looked like a swollen, irritated and boated bulge.

“How do you feel otherwise?” He had asked as examined her wound with as much care as he manage. Ahlis winced regardless.

“I’m not about to faint in these damned woods, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s itchy as all hell though, and I think the bandage was made too tight.”

_At least her ferocity hadn’t dwindled, can’t be having that_, he thought to himself as he prepared another bandage. It was likely just a poor allergic reaction, on top of the open wound left behind by the ochu vine that inflicted it to begin with. If only she hadn’t insisted on waiting until they reached a settlement, then there wouldn’t be griping from the pain of it.

“Do you trust me?”

She blinked at the question, her brows narrowing in some confusion.

“Rhodry, what are you…”

“Because it’s foolish to wait on treatment when you’re clearly experiencing this much pain.”

Ahlis didn’t hide the discontent upon her face: her lips pouted briefly, as if considering if she ought to entertain an answer.

“I’m not…I am not trying to make this more difficult. I simply want to be out of the wild wood sooner rather than later.”

Rhodry said nothing at first, pulling enough length of the gauze to begin again. She was anxious of being in the Shroud while injured, then? He considered soothing such concerns, although it would likely be futile. Ahlis did not take placation well, that was something he learned rather quickly.

“Well you are making things difficult. Do you want my help or not?”

Ahlis bristled and for a moment Rhodry believed that was the end of it; he would mend her arm one last time and be done with it, hands washed clean. The tension between them had come…and then it dissipated. He watched as she deflated somewhat, her posture sagging a touch.

“…Fine. It’s fine, do what you must.”

There was strain in her words, relenting, but she was clear in the way she stared directly upon him as she watched. Rhodry nodded once, and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhodry belongs to aethernoise/emmerwrites and was written with permission!


	17. Jitter

The candles had burned low and yet sleep wouldn’t come. I couldn’t explain it, but something in me told me not to close my eyes. Or, rather, that was what I told myself as I lay there watching as Aymeric slept beside me.

See, the anticipation of the entire thing almost killed me because I am no fool: things happen in beds, and while I am not naive and I am certainly modest. All I knew is that this time, no matter how late the hour, I wished for him to remain. And so he did, and beyond that I had absolutely no other plan.

How careless of me! How daft. I guess I am a bit of a fool. Any sane or normal person would delight in this opportunity for some adventure, but I was all nerves! I shook in his arms underneath my favorite blanket, which really is a joke if I thought that would bring me any peace of mind. There was a man in my bed, for gods’ sake, and the last thing on my mind was _that_!

He soothed me more than any attempt I made for my own sorry hide. The relief I felt that he, of all people, expected nothing from me? For the first time in forever I actually didn’t want to laugh, as I knew Aymeric was being his most genuine self. That opened the path I needed, because I did desire him in some ways, but not all of them. Not yet, and gods damn me, who knows when. Yet he cares not, at least not in the way I dreaded he would.

Maybe that’s the reason I remained awake and utterly aware of him next to me. To touch his cheek, to feel the curl and softness of his hair, to simply be as this and nothing more. No longer fretting and pure nervousness and unsure as all hells but content and, dare I say, happy.


	18. Obeisant

“Well, it is your decision after all.”

She’d done it, at last. To give her blessing, to say those words that released of any further obligation to obey them instead of herself.

It ought to have been a blessing. It sounded like one, and in her determination Ahlis believed she had won, _finally_–that she had earned the respect and proved it once and for all. That after years of following the lead of her captain, her guardian who finished raising the vagrant Ala Mhigan girl, she was capable of what ever she wished, even if it meant leaving all she had known for the last ten years.

There was precious little that Precious Spinel agreed to, and in the time that passed since her departure and the seldom letters that followed Ahlis wondered. Something yet lingered, between the scant lines written.

Had it really been her decision after all?


	19. Wilt

The small pot had been placed in front him while she waited across the table. The more she waited, the more apprehensive she became, and when his eyes finally looked up to see her watching with rapt attention he released the sagging limb of the plant.

“Well it’s not dead.”

Ahlis sighed, her expression becoming flat. She could swear she saw the gleam of impishness in his eyes

“I know that, but is it too late?”

Rhodry sat up and took the planter in his hands, moving over to another table that looked more akin to a workbench littered with various botany related tools. Taking a pair of small shears into his hands he began to trim a couple of the stems that were the worst off.

“It’s gone dormant, is all. Just needs a bit of extra care. Here,” he beckoned Ahlis over to join him and handed over the scissors. “Try it yourself, it only needs a little.”

“Okay…and then what?”

“Then we’ll keep it somewhere cool, see it that perks it up a bit.”

Ahlis followed as he instructed, asking as she went so not to make any _more_ mistakes for the poor plant.

“You don’t mind keeping it for me, do you? I don’t think I have a cooler place to keep it, unless you count an ice box.”

“And that would be a death wish for your cyclamen,” Rhodry replied and Ahlis gave a small chuckle. “Of course I’ll hold onto it.”

“Good, crisis averted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhodry belongs to aethernoise/emmerwrites and was written with permission!


	20. Radiant

It was morning. The travel tent was made alight by the arrival of the sun and far earlier than he was accustomed too. He was also unaccustomed to sleeping with company beside him and yet when he rolled to his side, expecting to find the warmth of another, there was nothing.

He gently rubbed an eye, and then the other to rid them of the sleep there, before pushing himself to rise. Curiosity bade him to go further and out into the open of their campsite even though the everlasting winds, while not terrible that morning, were quite cool. Blanket in hand and swathed within it, he pried open the tent flap to see where his companion had ventured to.

It only took a moment find her, silhouetted against the magnificent sunrise partly shaded by billowing and swirling clouds. She was standing tall with the crags and looming rock floating above them, hair in a braid that was almost entirely undone by sleep and the breeze, her gown’s hem fluttered around her calves. He held his breath, believing if he made another sound she might turn to face him and the moment would be lost forever. So, he his heart swelled, breath as a whisper, as he watched until she did eventually return to face their camp.

Ahlis couldn’t hide her surprise at seeing Aymeric waiting for her, a gentle expression upon his face as he emerged from their tent. She smiled, and that truly, was the most radiant sight.


	21. Bisect

Ahlis never likes losing her place, especially when reading a book. Within the various small stacks of texts, lexicons and references a folded piece of parchment was the mark of her last page. Sometimes other items were used, like a long string of yarn, an arcanima scale used for measurements in her grimoire; even a leaf from her work on the road or a flower stem would be used if necessary. What ever was in reach would serve as her marker, a reminder for when her eyes would return to work between the pages.

Her current favorite is a ribbon, nestled within her personal journal. It was dyed with indigo, giving the fabric a deep hue of blue so dark it was almost black. The length of the ribbon lacked any embroidery, with the ends unfinished and tied off with a small knot.

She can’t recall where she found it; she _thinks_ she picked it up somewhere in Othard. It matters little when she finishes her current entry and waits for the ink to dry. As she tucks the ribbon into the crease the deep blue catches her eye, and she is comforted.


	22. Crunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only NSFW-implied chapter of the series. You have been warned!

The Crystal Exarch was a curious sort of person in that much of him was still shrouded in mystery, literally and figuratively. Despite his authority and trust bestowed upon him by the local denizens of the Crystarium there were minuscule amounts of information known about the man. And he preferred it as such, nay, it was nigh required given the gravity of his purpose and his work.

Yet some parts of this mystique had now peeled away, much like the cowl he donned for much of his presence within and beyond the Tower. And it had all started with a name.

_G’raha Tia_. To hear it after so many years made himself feel as if everything within unfurled. It was a beckoning to the young man he had once been, like being swept undertow by a current he could not withstand, all because of the woman who called him as such.

He knew he blushed at the thought of her, his “inspiration”, especially as his thoughts drifted upon his memories now all mixed together, the past along with the new. He suppressed himself when in the company of anyone, especially _her_, but now as he remained by himself within the Ocular and further still with doors closed to his personal quarters he need not hold himself back as his thoughts helplessly drifted from the innocent to tawdry.

The prickle of shame in daring to fantasize over her wasn’t enough to halt his mind in conjuring the Warrior’s beautiful visage above him: after all she stood a solid fulm taller than he with even more height to spare. He liked to imagine she would enjoy such a simple fact as her hand would take a firm grasp of his chin, tilting up just so to stare with silver eyes he found utterly captivating.

_“I kneel to no man, G’raha Tia,” the Warrior would say, before her lips would twist into a pout of immense satisfaction, “but for you, I shall make an exception.”_

And oh, what a lovely exception he became. The desire to feel her upon him, as relentless as in battle, with delicate fingers coiled in her curls of sinfully white hair pulled all of his senses into a thrall. It was a maddening how quickly he found himself overcome, to be at the mercy of his depravity within his mind’s eye.

When the aftermath washed over him he would slowly catch his breath, a sigh from the pleasure he earned by his own hands ever fleeting and painfully transient. Clarity always followed after, albeit briefly, with the same self-assurances he always told himself: this cannot last, that he must be honest with himself. He felt alive for the first time in an age, and yet with that virility came grief.

G’raha Tia closed his eyes and knew not what to do, with only her name upon his lips.


	23. Free Day (Dagger)

She watched as Ryne tossed a dagger in the air with a practiced precision while they waited. It clearly reminded her of someone else: not quite a spitting image, but close enough. Ahlis couldn’t help a small twitch of a grin.

“Didn’t Thancred ever tell you not to play with your daggers at the table?”

That didn’t stop her from continuing to toss and twirl the blade in her hand, and Ahlis didn’t expect it to. Ryne wasn’t impudent, unlike a certain someone could be, but some habits certainly carried over.

“It’s not hurting anyone,” came another voice from behind Ahlis’s chair and she turned back to look.

_Speak of the devil._

“You haven’t lost your ability to sneak up on me, I see. I thought you’d be turning into an old man by now, ready to retire.”

It was a joke, of course, the displacement of time no fault of either of them. Ahlis almost didn’t believe that five years had come and gone for the man since he last seen her. She didn’t want to dwell much on that, truth be told. So what better way to handle it than a jab at the awkwardness of it all.

“Your humor still needs work I see,” Thancred retorted, although he too made it in jest. Ahlis shrugged lightly, playing along.

Despite it all nothing had really changed after all.


	24. Parched

The catch had been good that day. The fish themselves may have been small in size yet they weighed their fishing line and basket considerably with their numbers. 

It made her smile, recalling their afternoon together. Once she had shown him the basics of prepping a line on a rod and how to use the bait, Aymeric took to it rather well. He had the patience for it…once he knew what to look for and how to wait for the catch, anyway. For hours they lazed the afternoon away, casting and reeling in their lines until they were well set for dinner and then some. Admittedly, Ahlis had caught the greater number, yet judging from his high spirits he too had enjoyed himself.

They returned to their stake out and made camp with a lovely La Noscean view surrounding them. The weather would be good, Ahlis thought as they busied themselves gutting the fish for prep in the fire; they may even spend the evening outside their tent if the winds were kind enough.

Once fire was ready, the skewers cut, the pair sat together to eat. She did the honors of preparing the first set, seasoning the fish and jabbing the end of the stick firmly into the earth to bend over the flames. 

“I could just do this myself,” Ahlis spoke as she made sure the skewer would hold properly. “But then we wouldn’t be roughing it, would we?”

“There is also the curiosity of your cooking in the field,” Aymeric spoke with a soft amusement in his voice; it almost made Ahlis want to retort with a tossed raw fish his way done purely out of spite. It was true that this far their meal fare had been mostly travel-friendly food stuffs of the dried variety, but now she had a chance to impress upon him once more.

Magic would certainly roast the fish faster, but that was not the point of their excursion. This was to be an adventure, after all, cookery and all. Ahlis stared at him from across the fire, challenge accepted.

“Best not harass the cook, ser, or else your food may end up burned and not properly roasted.”


	25. Unctuous

The Pinion Patisserie was growing in renown if one were to judge by the guestbook now highly populated with entries from its patrons. Today was no exception as one of the newest entries was penned by a returning visitor.

_This establishment has yet to disappoint me and I feel it never shall as every visit has proved time and time again the quality of its offerings._

_As much as I wished to nibble and taste every single pastry on display I decided to dine on a classic from Gyr Abania: buckler stew. Hearing that the chef shares a common heritage as myself I had to see if he could do such a dish justice._

_Well all my worries were put to rest the moment it was placed before me, piping hot and mouth-watering. All the ingredients were fresh and cooked to perfection, and the meat was so tender, but the real star was the broth. Many places when they make this sort of stew attempt to over-season or add extra lard or fattening ingredients to improve flavor: not so with this one. It was the perfect balance of savory and sweet, I didn’t need any additions to my pot to make the perfect meal (although I must say the little veggies cut into stars? You’re after my own heart, how dare you!)._

_I cannot give any more praise to this establishment as I’d be writing for a week, but the Pinion Patisserie certainly deserves it. I’ll be back!_

_ Ahlis Ildilayan_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rothe/the Pinion Patisserie belong to kukurubean/Jill and was written with permission!


	26. Trust

The wind was unrelenting as they cruised through the worsening rain, the wide stretch of the southern Shroud approaching them from below. Ahlis had underestimated the speed of the storm, their flight being too leisurely as they made their way north. They had to land quickly, lest they risk a strike from a thunderbolt.

“How far until we can make the landing?” A voice called over the wind, pressing almost directly into her ear as he leaned over to speak.

“Not long now. If we can reach the border for the east we won’t have much farther to go,” Ahlis called back and focused all the more on controlling the airship’s movements.

Keeping the newly refitted manacutter steady in such wind had proven challenging, even with her experience in navigating such places as the Aery in the past. Yet nearly everything about this particular ship had been redesigned and remade; Ahlis wasn’t certain how much testing had been done for the thing in tumultuous weather.

Thunder rumbled close and ominous around them and it made all the hairs on her arms to her neck tingle and itch. An updraft buffeted against the manacutter, making it feel as if it was leaping up and down, like a dolphin cresting water in the Rhotano. Too much of this and she wasn’t sure her companion would keep his stomach in.

Then, it happened. A strike smashed into the rudder and by some miracle the shock hadn’t struck them either. Her heart pounded into her chest as she saw the nav system going haywire; they were losing altitude fast.

“Ahlis!” Aymeric cried out from where he sat behind her in the passenger side. “We’re approaching too quickly!”

“I know! I’m bringing us in manually!” She cried out as she slammed her fist into the guidance panel one last time for good measure. It flickered to life, but not much support within the craft remained.

Switches were snapped into place to maneuver the aileron sails for the incoming landing. Ahlis felt the push back and tried to feel some measure of relief; at least those were still working. She wanted to say something else as they made their rapid descent: to hang on to something, that this would work, that she was sorry if it did not.

All she could think about was that she _knew_, without any word, that he trusted her to guide them.

Up ahead she saw a wide gap between the trees for clear ground, and hoped it would be enough.


	27. Slosh

“You brought her in as best you could,” the healer spoke as they patted their hands dry after a thorough washing. “The break was rather bad but I don’t think we need to worry about blood poisoning.”

Alyx could feel the tension that had been sitting inside her gut begin to ease. Drybone had thought to have been a lost cause, with what had happened after being accosted by those highway bandits, and then the crawling through that endless ravine. Yet they had made it after all, albeit a bit worse for wear, and even better there was a healer to spare within those meager surroundings.

It was some time before she managed to go the bedside where Ahlis had been put to lay down and let the mending do its work. They had been stuck in the middle of nowhere for a good while with no good means of communication; Alyx thought it better to send word on what had happened while her companion slept through the draught they gave her.

The first thing she noticed was that Ahlis’s pillow was covering her whole head, her arm holding it fast as if to block her entire face.

“Are you awake?” Alyx asked carefully, which was followed by a gurgled mumble from below said pillow.

“Don’t, want to be at the moment,” Ahlis finally replied and Alyx could feel the weight of the fatigue in her voice.

Pulling a nearby stool to sit upon, Alyx joined her friend at her side. It was easy to feel sympathy for desiring sleep, yet the relief won over.

“I doubt you can breathe well under that pillow,” Alyx said, her curiosity winning her over.

“You’d be right. Don’ want ‘em seeing me.”

That gave Alyx some pause before continuing.

“What do you mean?”

“E’rryone, the Blades ‘specially. Don’ want them, recognizing me.”

Now that curiosity turned into puzzlement, and a growing apprehension.

“Is there something I should know? Ahlis?”

The pillow came away with her arm that held it there, her face flushed from being pressed under it.

“It was my job, years ago,” Ahlis gave a small huff, as if annoyed. “Didn’ I tell you?”

“I’m afraid you left that part out,” Alyx rose up from her seat and considered inching the door to the convalescent room to a close. She also considered just how much Ahlis was pulling her leg; perhaps it was the drowsiness of the medicine talking more than her friend.

“Well it’s true, and the last thing I want is old ‘friends’ coming to find me,” Ahlis rubbed one of her eyes as if it itched something fierce before draping her arm over her face with the inside of her elbow.

Alyx placed her hand on the door and looked back.

“Do you need anything?”

“A drink.”

That got a smile to form on Alyx’s face, although Ahlis couldn’t exactly see it.

“Understandable, but I don’t think that’s wise.”

“I’m serious. The pain’s comin’ back…think the medicine wore off…”

At that Ahlis began to fidget and stopped immediately, a hiss and a quick gasp leaving her lips. Alyx left the door and approached the bed again, her hands reaching out to steady Ahlis as her agitation grew, words still slurred together.

“I want out, I don’t want t’be here…!”

A few tense moments passed as Alyx kept her still. There was a moan and whimper of pain, before silence came over, Ahlis relaxing upon the bed once more. Alyx’s hand gently retracted back from where she had placed it against Ahlis’s temple; she had done it without thinking. A familiar sensation came over her, a memory of years before.

Alyx straightened the blanket one last time before retrieving the pillow, tucking it under her friend’s head. She would find the mender again, and tell them what happened.

_No more draughts_, Alyx thought to herself as she quietly closed the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alyx belongs to aethernoise/emmerwrites and was written with permission!


	28. Palaver

“Ahlis! What are you doing here?”

“To see you, why else?”

Lyse had found the arrival of the Warrior of Light a welcome, albeit an unexpected, surprise. She rounded the table she had been standing over to face her friend more fully and up close. Especially now, given that _certain_ changes had taken to her look. If there was shock to be had over it, it was brief: just like the rise of her eyebrows before easing back into a kind of relief.

“I would think you’d be kept busy, what with having just returned and all.”

“I should have come to you sooner, after the fighting in Ghimlyt.”

Lyse shook her head, dismissing Ahlis’s concern.

“As if I could fault you for that! We all did what was necessary.”

Ahlis lowered her eyes a touch, nodding her chin.

“I also heard what happened after,” Lyse spoke again, this time a touch softer. “If only I had done more.”

“Don’t,” Ahlis began, but stopped. She recognized that edge in her friend’s voice; but she also knew it was better to not dwell upon it. “It’s over, isn’t it? We all made it in the end.”

At that, Lyse smiled again, seemingly letting the matter go.

“That we did. And, if memory serves, _you_ were expressly taken back to Ishgard to recover as well. A certain commander insisted upon it.”

_Oh, no_. Ahlis sighed and turned in her steps; she wasn’t scowling just yet, which only encouraged Lyse to press a little further.

“You recovered well under their care. Although there was concern you would not awaken like the others, considering the way you collapsed.”

“Even when facing certain death I never fail to disappoint.”

“Oh? If only a dashing dragoon would jump to my aid at a moment’s notice.”

_Dashing?_ Ahlis couldn’t believe that Lyse not only would taunt her about Aymeric, but Estinien as well? The look she gave her made Lyse laugh at last, reaching to grasp her friend’s hand.

“I was also told Ser Aymeric notified the others as soon possible of your waking. That he couldn’t hide the pure joy from his face at the news. Too bad I missed it.”

Ahlis could feel her face beginning to prickle; before long she’d be blushing and she’d be a lost cause.

“Lyse–!”

“Come on, we have catching up to do! It was you who visited me and this is the perfect time.”

“Aren’t you needed somewhere, or…something?”

“Oh, don’t try and make me feel guilty already. Or is the Warrior of Light going to deny me a meeting so soon after my recovery?”

_Laying it on thick, aren’t you Lyse?_ Ahlis lightly rolled her eyes, allowing herself to be pulled along into what she was sure would be a long and ceaseless barrage of conversation and banter.


	29. Attune

It was late and yet the world outside did not reflect the proper hour whatsoever. It felt as if she had reached finally the cusp of her fortitude, that moment when one decides if they will truly go to bed or say “hells with it” and fall in for an all-nighter before continuous prepping the proper kettle for tea or coffee or both. That, at least, was a welcomed and familiar feeling in the world almost entirely swarmed with light.

It was a comfort despite knowing she would pay for it one way or another. Ahlis wasn’t oblivious to the concept of pushing herself, body and mind together, for the sake of work. Delving into the ossuary in Ul’dah as a youth and pilfering the libraries and listening to their sermons was the beginning of her curiosities being stoked like a fire, before becoming fine-tuned to the academic machine that was the Arcanist’s Guild in Limsa Lominsa.

Ahlis sighed and flexed her hands for the upteenth time, her eyes watching the infused ink on the paper dry. The formulae had to be immaculate, precise, and they were…on the Source. Now that she had traversed the rift to this new place there was something _off_ about the execution of her prior spells. The answer came back to aether, and yet there had to be tests, redos and attempts to tweak what had felt so natural before…to something that felt a little bit off her personal, innate center. After all, it was not so simple for a student such as herself, in more ways than one.

Her curiosity wished for someone to cross-check her notes; gods know there were a good many of them made in the days after her arrival. _Alphinaud would have good feedback; after all he’s been here for at least a year._ It was a sobering, heavy thought. Ahlis had already agreed to seek out Alisaie first in Amh Araeng, but in the efforts to prepare for her journey she insisted on taking as much precaution as possible.

Hence the newly made grimoire–almost made, at least. Her hands reached for the new leather binding that she had crafted and traced the tooling on the outside. There in the grooves she felt pride, but also patience. It would take time to settle in with her new book and with the flow of her aether into her spell work: after all, adjustments had to be made and attunement took its own score of toil.


	30. Free Day (Blessing)

The procession was a small but lively one. Centered within the people gathered was a couple; one of them donning a simple headpiece similar to that of a veil. The path they were taking led along one of the many towards the Exedra, and Ahlis did not take long to piece the two and two together.

_It must be a wedding_, she mused silently to herself as she watched from above. She found it passing strange if that were true, as the hour of twilight now approached, but then again perhaps it was not so odd after all. A ceremony under the stars now revealed after years of being hidden by the ever-present Light? Her thoughts didn’t linger long as she was suddenly drawn to the sound of quick footsteps behind her.

“There you are,” said the unmistakable voice of Captain Lyna. She wasn’t very winded but the air around her spoke of immense hurry. “I do not wish to impose, but you are requested at the Tower.”

Ahlis raised an eyebrow, clearly a touch confused.

“Is it the Exarch?”

“Aye, and with an unusual request. No doubt you likely saw down below the procession on their way?”

Ahlis nodded, yet that did not make anything clearer. The captain did not wait to hear any questions before continuing.

“You’ve been asked to attend…if you are willing. Your blessing as the Warrior of Darkness to witness their union, is a desire the Exarch wishes to fulfill.”

Ahlis blinked, and could not help but feel rather strange at such a request, never mind rather put in a bind. How could she even _say_ no? There was not much time, and she shrugged.

“Very well. Brief me on the way, would you?”

Together the two women made brisk work of descending the terrace and began their crossing of the large courtyard.


	31. Darkness

The candles were extinguished along with the lamps save for the one that Ahlis carried in her hand as she made her way to the pillows, blankets and soft stuffed mattress of the bed. Alyx, still awake, had already made herself comfortable within it all and the sight of it made a particular warmth radiate from Ahlis’s chest down to belly and her feet. It was everything at a single moment: jolting to peaceful, aching to the gentle easiness of sleep that was soon to come. 

She wondered if it would ever change, or go away; it still felt a little frightening, but that too had slowly become that same easiness, like laying one’s head on a pillow or soft shoulder. Eventually acceptance came with it. Ahlis placed the lamp from her hands to the small table beside the bed and crawled in to join her company, unafraid now to press herself entirely against Alyx as she rested on her side, cheek pressed carefully upon her chest.

The response was immediate as Alyx’s arms moved to encircle her, a hand taking a familiar and careful rest upon Ahlis’s head.

“You left the lamp burning,” Alyx spoke into the softness of her hair that touched her chin and lightly against her lips. 

“I want to see you still,” Ahlis said, and her voice was soft too. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Alyx’s hold upon Ahlis tightened, just so, and a sigh left her nose. Ahlis mumbled and closed her eyes, her lashes felt against Alyx’s skin. 

“Mm?”

“…it’s okay. The waiting, and missing you,” Ahlis breathed deep and rubbed her face against the warm of skin. “I am always missing you. If we have this…”

Alyx pulled her fingers through the waves of Ahlis’s hair and her heart swelled until it ached. She held onto that feeling, that sweet soreness, and found comfort in it. The lamp’s flame flickered against the dimness of the room, a center of light in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alyx belongs to aethernoise/emmerwrites and was written with permission!


End file.
